


The Trying Life of a Frog Prince

by LeBibish



Series: Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales [1]
Category: Der Froschkönig oder der eiserne Heinrich | The Frog Prince (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen, POV First Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeBibish/pseuds/LeBibish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A record of my time as a frog, cursed by an ugly witch, and the horrible deprivation and constant irritations I suffered thereupon.</p><p>Or</p><p>A story in which the Frog Prince isn't particularly charming and gets the Princess he deserves with the help of Faithful (Iron) Henry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trying Life of a Frog Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own the fairy tales collected by the Brothers Grimm (arguably, neither did they). This particular take on the characters is my own though. Lines in italics reflect dialogue that comes from the version I am referring to, Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales.
> 
> Grimm's fairy tales are based on translations, so some of the wording varies from version to version. 
> 
> Also, this is not related to the Disney remix AT ALL.

One girl and one girl alone in all the wide world can break the spell on me.

 

How very irritating.

 

Truly, most of my experience of being a frog is irritating.

 

I am, for example, required to subsist on flies and gnats and a variety of other flying and crawling creatures. I tried eating more succulent food, but it made me feel ill. The indignity of being a sick frog was unbearable. Although, Faithful Henry did bring me some caviar. It was tastier than usual.

 

Faithful Henry is with me at all times. He is, after all, very faithful. He hasn’t always been called Henry though. My father called him George. I don’t recall what my grandfather called him, or his father. I heard the stable boy tell the kitchen boy once that it was Ludmilla but that is clearly peasant nonsense. Ludmilla is a horrific name. John, maybe. I like Henry much better.

 

Dear, faithful Henry, tall and slender and fair, has looked after the young Princes of my line for generations. Someday, when I am King and have a son, he will look after him instead of me.

 

That will, obviously, require that I regain my true noble form and shed this irritating, wet skin. Which requires the girl. At least she is a princess. My bride should bring something to the marriage beyond simply my freedom, after all. It is expected of me. I have no other siblings to bring wealth and alliances to the benefit of my kingdom.

 

My family has had only one child, always a son, born for generations. This would be more of a cause for concern, but Henry makes sure that each child survives to father his own son. Our kingdom has a longer line of direct descent than any other kingdom around us.

 

So of course it is important that I marry a Princess. How lucky that the witch’s curse can be broken by one.

 

She is passing lovely, too.

 

I had thought to go up to her and demand her assistance in my transformation, but Henry has suggested another course. Faithful Henry, he carried me for days to reach her and he always remembered to stop for extra water to keep my skin wet.

 

I don’t know how other princes manage without a faithful Henry of their own.

 

He has gathered a superb amount of useful information on the Princess. Every day in the summer she goes out into the woods to sit near an old well and play with a little golden ball. I can’t say I understand the obsession, although it is a wonderful ball. It looks like solid gold although that would be much too heavy for such a delicate looking princess to manage throwing and catching as she does.

 

Henry’s scheme is to distract the Princess just as she tosses the ball up and so keep her from catching it properly. He assures me that it will fall into the well from there and I will be able to ransom it for her companionship. She loves the thing so that she will promise anything for its return.

 

I think I might ask a bit more than just companionship though, as she treasures it so completely.

 

She is approaching the well. Her dress is finely embroidered and dotted with small jewels and she wears an elegant golden circlet on her brow. Her eyes never leave the golden ball whether it is in her hand or tumbling through the air. I wonder why it captivates her so.

 

It is Henry’s job to distract the girl. I am hiding in a bush that leans out over the well’s edge. The ball is rather mesmerizing as she tosses it up and catches it neatly, over and over again. A sparking, twirling ball of light, drawing the eye and filling my mind with wonder…

 

There’s an annoying buzzing fly nearby. Annoying not just because of the noise but because it reminds me that I am hungry. I hate eating flies.

 

Where is Henry?

 

There. He must have made that crashing sound in the trees over there. And the Princess looked towards him, away from her ball which I thought she might never do. It flies, through the air, falls, and instead of landing in her outstretched hand, hits the ground with a strange tinkling noise. It rolls forward…stills on the edge of the well…and then rolls just that bit farther to fall into the well.

 

Excellent chance.

 

The girl wails like a banshee. I cannot bear to hear a woman weeping. I wish Henry would come take her away as he does when the maids or other females in the castle start carrying on.

 

That would defeat the purpose of this whole plot though, I suppose. I quietly slip into the water, relishing its cool feeling on my skin, then poke my head out where she can see me.

 

“ _What ails you, King’s daughter? Your tears would melt a heart of stone.”_ Women like that sort of sensitivity.

 

Her voice is thick with the tears still streaming down her eyes. She’s a bit snotty, in more than one sense of the word. “ _Oh, is it you, old waddler?”_ Old waddler? Impertinent girl! I am no older than she and I do not waddle. At all. Even as a frog. Also, she is merely the youngest of the King’s daughters and I am a Crown Prince. How dare she speak so to me?

 

Although I suppose she doesn’t know all that yet. And might not be inclined to believe me, dressed as I am in slimy green.

 

She’s still talking through her tears. “ _I weep because my golden ball has fallen into the well_.”

 

She is unnaturally attached to that thing. Or, I suppose, simply spoiled beyond even my belief.

 

“ _Never mind, do not weep,”_ please, please stop crying before you drive me mad. “ _I can help you; but what will you give me if I fetch up your ball again?”_

_“Whatever you like, dear frog,”_ she says quickly and breathily. “ _Any of my clothes, my pearls and jewels, or even the golden crown that I wear_.”

 

We have baited this trap well, Henry and I! “ _Your clothes, your pearls and jewels, and your golden crown are not for me,”_ I reply. After all, I have my own and it wouldn’t do for a prince to be greedy or selfish. We require only what we deserve. “ _But if you would love me, and have me for your companion and play-fellow;”_ This is where Henry’s advice stopped. But I rather deserve more after this ordeal. “ _And let me sit by you at table, and eat from your plate, and drink from your cup, and sleep in your little bed—if you would promise all this, then would I dive below the water and fetch you your golden ball again.”_

 

I deserve pampering. And a soft bed with clean sheets and a pretty little maiden between them.

 

“ _Oh yes, I will promise it all, whatever you want, if you will only get me my ball again.”_ She looks a bit sly, but she has given her word. I pop down into the well’s water and look for the golden ball.

 

It is horrifically muddy and dark down here. One would think that such a precious object as that golden ball would shine like a beacon. I can’t seem to find it.

 

I am obliged to actually dig through the muck a bit before I catch sight of it. I really do deserve that bed!

How to get it out? These ridiculous limbs of mine are hardly capable of lifting anything. I suppose I shall have to carry it in my mouth. I will have to wash the taste of this pond swill out with wine from the princess’ cup. The thought gives me enough energy to grab the ball and push myself out of the water.

 

The Princess’ face is filled with joy and relief. She really is very lovely, even with tear tracks on her face. Actually, they rather make her eyes sparkle more.

 

She scoops up the ball from where I have dropped it and I prepare myself to be picked up and cuddled against her bosom in gratitude.

 

She runs off.

 

“ _Stop, stop! Take me up too; I cannot run as fast as you!”_ But she does not stop. In fact, I think she starts running even faster.

 

I shout angrily after her, but it emerges as harsh croaks and does nothing to stop her. Soon, she is beyond my sight. That lying little wretch!

 

Faithful Henry emerges from the trees, silent and pale. I am still croaking madly and now also hopping up and down in anger. Henry raises an eyebrow and folds himself down to sit on the ground, ready to wait out my temper as he has done for all of my life.

 

I have moved on from cursing the girl and her broken promises to cursing the witch. That evil old woman cast a spell on me—on me, the crown prince!—and turned me into this pathetic wretch that even a silly chit like that doesn’t bother to keep promises to. How dare she! Both she’s!

 

I don’t even know why the hideous hag cast this curse on me. She said something about trespassing and also stealing her love; but that is complete nonsense. We were in the King’s Forest, which after all belongs to me, and I have obviously never stolen anyone’s love. Or, well, anyone that might be connected to an old witch like her. A few knights and village men, perhaps, may have lost their sweethearts to me. Women rarely put up much resistance to being seduced by a prince. Anyways, the only one with me was Henry and he has been with my family for time past counting.

 

I suppose evil witches don’t really need a reason to put a curse on someone, not even dashing young princes.

 

When I am done with throwing a tantr…venting my entirely reasonable temper, Henry gently scoops me up and places me inside his jacket.

 

This is how I have traveled for the last few days, nestled in Henry’s jacket while he rides, my own horse tied to his saddle and following behind. It is a most comfortable seat, except that every once in a while I am jostled enough to brush against an edge of iron.

 

Three great iron bands stretch around Henry’s chest. They are usually covered by his clothes, but I have chanced to see them a few times. The skin near them is always reddened and cracked.

 

When I was younger, I worried that they hurt Henry; but my father and Nurse explained that they did not and his skin merely looked that way because it was easily irritated. I ordered the tailors to make him shirts of some of the finest and softest cloth available and he never seems to be in any pain. Father said the iron bands are there to keep Henry’s heart from breaking. Nurse said it is always breaking because he feels sad that the boys he watches grow up so quickly.

 

I imagine it makes him very sad to see me brought low like this. I shall have to arrange something nice for him once we return home.

 

Henry takes me back to the camp he set up while he was watching the Princess and learning her habits. I have a satin pillow to sleep on. It may not be as nice as a good feather bed but I suppose he is doing his best.

 

I am exhausted and fall to sleep immediately.

 

In the morning, I wish to chase after the Princess directly and force her to keep her promises. Henry suggests another tactic. I chide him for presuming—his last plan did not turn out so well. But then, he reminds me that I may have asked for a bit more than he had advised.

 

Nothing more than I deserved, of course, but it is true that I went beyond the bounds of his scheme. I graciously agree to give his plan another chance. Of course, I will hold the Princess to all of the promises she made.

 

So Henry brings me to the Princess’s castle not early in the morning when she would be breakfasting with her ladies but later when she sups with the King and all the Court. The King, so Henry has heard, is scrupulously honest and devout in keeping his word.

 

We slip past the guards at the main gate and stop at the door leading to the Court. Henry is very good at slipping past people when he wants to.

 

Henry knocks loudly on the door and then backs up to stand against the wall. He seems to almost fade into the stonework. I stand proudly in front of the door and cry out with all my strength “ _Youngest King’s daughter, let me in!”_ I think she rather needs to be reminded of her place in things.

 

I hear the murmur of conversation stop and then someone scurries over to the door. It opens and the Princess is standing there, looking even lovelier than before. Her hear is covered in a net that shines with jewels and her dress is brightly colored and a bit revealing. I wish I was tall enough to see the cleavage that neckline promises.

 

She stares at me, then quickly shuts the door. I hear a few people talking on the other side but cannot quite make out the words, though one voice is clearly the Princess and one I am believe to be her father. They both sound a bit upset. Henry and I planned on this.

 

He knocks again and I cry out “ _Youngest King’s daughter, open to me! By the well water, what promised you me? Youngest King’s daughter now open to me!”_ Henry suggested that rhyming will make people think of magic spells and realize I am not merely a simple frog. Apparently speaking intelligently and clearly was not proof enough! I have to write poetry as well.

 

The door opens again, slowly this time and the Princess stares at me glumly. She turns back to the table and I follow along to stand by her chair. Possibly I could jump high enough to seat myself, but I am a prince and I refuse to expose myself to such indignity in front of the Court of my future bride.

 

“ _Lift me up to sit by you_.” After all this, she still hesitates and in the end her father has to order her to keep her promise! He seems rather irritated. I cannot place any blame on him. The entire venture is extremely irritating.

 

They keep a royal table here, and I find myself desperately longing for real food instead of terrible flies. Also, I am feeling a bit ill-used and vengeful. “ _Now push your golden plate a little nearer, so that we may eat together_.”

 

The food makes my stomach a bit ill, but her sour face tells me she enjoys it even less. I fill myself to the brink.

 

“ _I have had enough now and as I am tired, you must carry me to your room and make ready your silken bed, and we will lie down and go to sleep.”_ I have been elaborating this fantasy to myself all night and I will require her to fulfill it. A soft bed with clean sheets and a pretty maiden between them!

 

She bursts into tears. Her wails are just as terrible as I remember and I find myself cringing away from her. Her father must not like them either, for he grows very cross indeed and chides her several times for her behavior. Finally, he turns very formal and his voice is hard as stone as he says “ _That which thou hast promised in thy time of necessity, must thou now perform.”_

 

I would not dare argue with my own father if he used that tone, and she seems to have some modicum of intelligence for she composes herself quickly. She picks me up not at all gently and I dangle between her thumb and finger as she carries me upstairs.

 

Her room is cozy and the bed looks wonderful, but she does not put me there. Instead, she puts me in a corner. I assume that she means to make herself ready for sleep and so, gentleman that I am, I turn away to give her some privacy.

 

Eventually the room is quiet and I am sure she has had enough time so I turn back. She is laying on the bed, her eyes closed as if to sleep with no thought of me at all!

 

“ _I am tired and want to sleep as much as you_ ” I say. “ _Take me up, or I will tell your father!”_ I can’t think she’d dare as angry as he seemed that she would break her promises so.

 

But I may have underestimated her in this, for her eyes spark and her face flushes with rage. She leaps from the bed and snatches me up, then throws me forcefully against the wall!

 

I almost expect to be squashed, but as my back touches the stone, the room about me seems to shrink—or I suppose, I grow.

 

There is a voice whispering around me—something I can barely hear. It sounds almost like the witch’s voice, maybe. “Harm done by true love’s hand undoes the harm given for true love’s sake and thus is he freed from his prison and his promise.” I don’t understand, but I am quickly distracted by gaining my own form.

 

I am rather happy that my clothes transform with me and seem no worse for wear.

 

It takes rather a long time to explain the situation to the Princess and even longer to her father.

Eventually though, he agrees that she must be my bride as she is obviously my own true love and I am after all a wealthy prince in need of a suitable bride (and, after all, several servants saw me emerge from her bedroom after she had already retired). I insist that we must return to my kingdom at once, to reassure my father and my people that all is well.

 

Henry, faithful Henry, somehow manages to dredge up the most magnificent coach to take us home, led by eight startlingly white horses. The Princess packs her best clothes—and I as well. The Royal tailor here is incredibly skilled and works quite quickly.

 

As we start off, Henry standing coachman, I hear a most horrific crack. I fear the wheel must have broken under us and call out to Henry.

 

But he calls back, and for the first time in my life I hear real emotion in his voice. He sounds happy as he tells me that it was not the wheel breaking, but the iron band around his heart bursting with joy and relief. I am pleased at his regard for my return.

 

Twice more I hear the sound as we journey on, and each time Henry assures me that it is the iron bands surrounding his heart that break.

 

We continue on, finally entering my own kingdom. My arm is wrapped around my bride to be and I am so happy to be home. I turn around to share my joy with Henry, but he isn’t there.

 

For the first time in my life, faithful Henry isn’t there.

 

I never see him again.


End file.
